Alone
by Thayer
Summary: What would have happened if Sarah hadn't seen the fake Sarkissian sneaking up on John in the last episode of season one? What do they want with John and how will Sarah help her son this time? please R&R!
1. Chapter 1

Adrenaline pumped through his veins, his heart beating loudly in his throat. His fingers fumbled with the thin lock pick as he tried to unlock the door quickly. Deep in concentration, John nearly missed the footsteps that were coming towards him. Nervous, he glanced behind him in time to see a huge man's profile before his head was slammed forward into the door. Reeling from the force of the blow, his head swimming and vision blurring, John stumbled backwards. He tried to turn, to fight, but his body didn't comprehend what his mind was telling it.

Suddenly, he stopped moving as he felt cold steel touch the back of his neck. A shiver ran through him. He could hear his mum, Derek and Cameron moving about in another part of the café but it felt as though it was just him and his captor.

"You will walk in front of me. Utter even the smallest of sounds and I will shoot you in the kneecap," the voice was a man's – one that he recognised. It was Sarkissian.

John swallowed and nodded silently. He knew how life-altering a shattered knee could be. Besides it wouldn't be long before his mum came looking for him; she never left him alone for very long. So he followed Sarkissian's instructions, walking silently in front of him as the man sporadically gave him directions.

They walked in silence, Sarkissian gripping John's jacket in a tight fist. Finally they reached a door, a green exit sign glowing above it. John swallowed, adrenaline levels skyrocketing. Where was his mum?

"Open the door," Sarkissian demanded.

Slowly, trying to give his family more time to reach him, he reached out his hand and took his time turning the knob. Suddenly, he felt the barrel of the gun in the back of his neck again and sweat broke out on his forehead. John pushed the door open and Sarkissian shoved him none-too-gently outside. He stumbled, thoughts of escape running through his mind. If he could just get the gun away from Sarkissian then he might stand a chance. Maybe he should just risk calling out?

"John?" the voice was faint but he would recognise it anywhere.

Sarah had finally noticed his absence and you'd have to be deaf not to hear the anxious note in her tone.

John opened his mouth to shout back but suddenly the butt of the gun came down on his temple and he crumpled into a heap on the ground. The pain was blinding, splitting his head in two. Somehow he stayed conscious, unable to speak or even groan but awake nonetheless.

Rough hands grabbed him under the arms and pulled him up. John was half-dragged, half-carried over to a nondescript car. Sarkissian pulled open the back door and pushed him inside. He hit his head on the roof of the car and fell gracelessly onto the back seat. A man was already there, waiting for him. He looked familiar although John couldn't place the face through the blur that was all his eyes could see.

The blurry man pulled him upright and Sarkissian slid in next to him. The car moved off before Sarkissian had the chance to close the door. But seconds before the door sealed closed, John heard his mum, shouting out his name. Her voice was filled with emotion, her pain and fear evident in her hysterical tone.

A gunshot sounded and there was a thud as it buried into the back panel of the car. John began to turn around but Sarkissian pushed the gun into his side and John froze.

"You don't move or make a sound without our permission, is that understood?" Sarkissian stated.

John glanced down at the gun, a simple black Glock 22, and nodded silently.

The car ride was quiet but John preferred it that way. He managed to clear his head although he still had a splitting headache that kept making itself known whenever they drove over a bump. His thoughts were focused on his mum and how frantic she would be. He could guess that she was yelling furiously at Derek and Cameron, demanding that they help her find him and yet simultaneously blaming them for his kidnapping.

This bought him to his next train of thought. John frowned as he mulled it over. What did Sarkissian want with him anyway? As far as he could tell, the man knew nothing about his destiny and he had the Turk already, so he didn't want him for money value. But what did he want?

Nearly an hour later, the car began to slow and then stopped. John looked out of the window, shifting slightly as Sarkissian dug the gun into his side. The only thing John could see though was sand. It was everywhere.

John nearly groaned, but stopped himself before the sound escaped his lips. The desert. Great, it would take forever for Sarah, Derek and Cameron to find him.

"Out!" Sarkissian suddenly demanded.

John turned and noticed that the other man, a Latino judging by his looks, had gotten out and was waiting for John to follow. Slowly, he climbed across the seat and stepped into the night. Immediately, he was pushed to the ground, a foot pressing heavily into the small of his back. Hands grabbed his arms and pulled them fiercely behind his back. Cold steel tightened around his wrists, cutting off his circulation. Then he was hauled to his feet.

The Latin man held onto John's cuffed hands as Sarkissian walked around the vehicle and motioned to the driver. John watched with growing apprehension as the car shifted into reversed and suddenly disappeared into the darkness of night. Now, left alone in the desert, his hands bound behind his back and his mother nowhere near, John felt panic and fear flood him. He didn't know what was happening and he didn't know why and this scared him more than his mum when she was angry.

Sarkissian took one step away from John before bending and dusting away a small amount of sand. As John watched, a silver latch appeared. Sarkissian pulled on it and sand began to shift as a steel covering was revealed. The Latin man pushed John forward and the boy got a glimpse of a dimly lit staircase made entirely of wood.

"In."

John glanced at Sarkissian, his eyes round. He hesitated for a second but it was long enough for Sarkissian to draw his gun and point it threateningly at his knee. Taking a deep breath, John looked back at the staircase and then stepped towards it. He wished that Cameron was here – she would be able to help him escape, probably without so much as getting a scratch.

But, he realised as his foot landed on the first step on the stairs, Cameron wasn't here. Nor was his mother or uncle and for once in his life he was truly alone. And it scared him.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you to everyone who reviewed – YOU GUYS ROCK!! I hope you will like this chapter although it is a little dark…_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Terminator.**

The stairs led down into a long and winding hallway. The Latino man pushed John ahead of him, laughing as the boy stumbled and fell against the wall. John grimaced but pushed himself away from the wall and continued to walk down the hall. He heard Sarkissian shutting the hatch behind them, followed by a soft click as a lock snapped into place. John shuddered at the sound, that horrible last reminder of his lost freedom.

"Hurry it up kid, we don't have all day!" Sarkissian hissed, shoving John in the small of his back.

This time he managed to keep his balance and instead of tripping or stumbling, John simply picked up his pace. The three men walked in silence, passing closed door after closed door. They took numerous corridors, winding and twisting, burying themselves deep within the confusing maze. John had long since lost his sense of direction, only following the directions his captors gave him.

Finally, John spotted a door ahead of them that had a small pool of light shining through the cracks. Considering every other door had been nondescript and dark, John guessed they'd arrived at their destination. He was proved right when the Latino man grabbed his arm, pulling him to a stop. Sarkissian squeezed past the pair and strode over to the door. He knocked three times but didn't wait for an answer. He pushed open the door and motioned for the Latino to bring John inside.

As John was bought into the room, his eyes did an instinctive sweep of its contents. The room was relatively empty except for a desk with an awfully familiar lump of technology set up on it. He stared at the powerful machine, his heartbeat once again skyrocketing. Sweat broke out on his forehead and he took a step backwards, standing on the Latino man's foot.

The man pushed him forwards again just as a head popped up from the other side of the desk. John had seen this man before as well – in the cyber café. He'd been the man behind the counter, the one who'd told them where Sarkissian was.

"Any problems Wayne?" the café man asked.

John didn't notice that he'd called Sarkissian Wayne as his attention was still entirely centred on the Turk. So this was where it was hidden! What Sarkissian and his men wanted with it, he didn't know but he was sure it wouldn't be so they could play an intense game of Solitaire.

"Nah, the kid did as he was told but I think that his mum might cause us some grief later," Wayne replied.

The café man nodded then turned his attention to John. He noticed John's surprise and smiled.

"I thought you might recognise it," he said.

Finally John looked up. Hard eyes met vaguely curious ones, both intent on staring the other down.

"What do you want with me?" John asked.

_A bit cliché_, he thought with a mental shrug. The man didn't seem to notice. He looked down at the Turk and dropped back down behind it.

"We have our reasons," he replied shortly. "Why don't you give him the tour?"

Wayne smiled and nodded. "Of course."

John felt the Latino grab his arm again and he was marched out of the room. Wayne closed the door behind them and began walking instantly.

"You will not be seeing much of the headquarters except for the rooms you are designated," Wayne stated.

John wasn't really paying attention any more. He was once again wrapped in thoughts about the Turk and his mother. If she found out where the Turk was then she would find him! He knew without a doubt that Sarah would be going mental, doing anything and everything she could think of to find him. Briefly, he wondered how many people she'd already beat up and smiled at the thought. Sarah didn't need a battle hardened hero from the future or a re-programmed Terminator to do her dirty work, not where John was involved.

John was jerked out of his thoughts as they stopped outside of another door. Wayne pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the door. As he put the key back into his pocket, the door swung open and the Latino pulled John inside. It was pitch black, the only light coming from the corridor beyond the door. With the faint light, John could just make out hard cement flooring and walls. There was something hanging from the centre of the far wall but there wasn't enough light for John to see what it was. He squinted, trying to get some idea of what it was. He didn't have to try for very long because suddenly the Latino man was dragging him towards it.

As it got closer, John began to struggle. He could see it now, his eyes wide and panicked. Hanging from the wall, buried deep within the cement, was a chain. It was long and thick, the links looking strong enough to contain a small car. Lying on the floor, attached to the end of the chain that was not buried in the cement, was a steel collar.

Wayne followed the pair into the room, walking straight over to the collar and picked it up off the ground. John continued to struggle, thrashing about in the Latino man's arms but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't break the huge man's hold. Wayne strode closer, the collar held open before him. He reached out to clasp it around John's neck but in a sudden and desperate action, John threw his head back and heard the sickening crunch as the Latino's nose broke.

Harsh swear words broke the silence and for just one second, the powerful grip around John's arms loosened. He took the opportunity and wrenched himself free of the man. Using his momentum, John swung his leg around in a round-house kick aimed for Wayne's stomach but his foot met nothing but air. Wayne had moved with a speed that belied his size. In less than one second, he had stepped back away from John's kick and watched in amused silence as the boy regained his balance.

Moving again with that blinding speed, Wayne took advantage of John's distracted state and slammed him bodily against the wall. Dazed, John felt the cold steel against his throat and instinctively began to struggle again. But it was no use. Wayne had already closed the collar, locking it shut with a heavy padlock. The man backed away from the boy and glanced over to his comrade.

"You okay Kes?" Wayne asked.

The Latino nodded, wiping the blood dribbling from his nose onto his sleeve. He swore at John and then walked up to the boy and punched him in the stomach. John groaned and curled in on himself, trying to will the pain away. It felt like someone had baseball bat to his insides.

"Let's go get you fixed up," Wayne said and the pair began to move out of the room.

"Wait!" John moaned from the floor.

Kes and Wayne both paused at the door, waiting for John to continue. John struggled to sit upright, the steel cuffs biting deep into his wrists. He could feel the heavy chain weighing down the collar around his neck. He swallowed and forced himself to ignore the pain.

"What are you going to do with me?" he demanded.

Kes's face lit up with an evil grin and he chuckled as he disappeared into the hallway. Wayne stepped outside too, pulling the door closed behind him. Just before it closed fully, the man stopped and seemed to deliberate for a moment.

"I think that you would prefer it if you didn't know," he replied, then the door shut and John was left in the consuming darkness, shuddering with pain and fear.

_Hope you like it! Two things though… I don't mean any offence when I called the man the Latino, it was just simply based on his race and wasn't meant to be offensive but I'm really sorry if anyone takes offence. And secondly, I don't actually know if John's seen the Turk but for the purpose of this he has ok? Haha… Thanks! PLEASE REVIEW! It'll encourage me to write more quickly…_


	3. Chapter 3

_So here's the next chapter, it's not very exciting but it's the lead up chapter to the exciting parts… sorry if its boring but please review!_

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It had been a week since John had been taken. Sarah had only had six hours sleep at best and her body was functioning purely on adrenaline and coffee. She knew she needed to sleep, that she would operate better and be of my assistance to her son if her body was not so fatigued. But every time she closed her eyes to sleep, the image of John being shoved into the car, the terrified expression on his face, appeared before her, taunting and haunting her.

She sat in the backseat of the Jeep, her hands subconsciously going over the process of cleaning her gun. Her eyes were focused on Derek in the front passenger seat.

"I don't have time," she stated.

Derek sighed. "You _need_ to sleep Sarah! You're going to be no help to John if you turn up exhausted and a wreck, unable to even stand."

"But there's so much I could be doing…"

"Sarah!" Derek called loudly, drowning her out. "John will need you awake and alert – at the top of your game. Don't ruin this for him."

"Derek is right," Cameron suddenly announced. Both adults turned to face the Cyborg. "There will be a higher success rate in retrieving John if your brain is functioning at its highest capacity."

"Just drive the damn car," Sarah snapped.

Cameron didn't react but her foot lowered further on the accelerator and the car sped up. They were going back to the beginning, hoping to find something that they'd missed the first two times. A few silent minutes later, Cameron pulled the Jeep into the gutter and the trio got out of the car. Sarah tucked her Glock into the back of her jeans and joined Derek and Cameron as they walked up the path and into the Internet Café.

***

John woke slowly, his head slightly groggy. He attempted to open his eyes but was forced to close them again almost immediately so that the bright white light wouldn't burn his retinas. He raised a hand to his face and rubbed his sore eyes. Carefully, with his hand shielding his eyes, John opened his eyes again.

This room was different to the one he'd been left in last night. It was painted white and everything in it was white and the bright fluorescents on the roof only added to the blinding brightness. They must have moved him during the night, John decided.

He tried to sit up but a sudden pain along his spine made him fall back down. He groaned and closed his eyes again. He moved a hand under him and felt along his back under his shirt. There was a thin scar about three inches long that ran directly beside his spine that had not been there yesterday.

Suddenly there was a commotion to his left and he turned his head, opening his eyes just long enough to see three men in white scrubs crowded around some sort of machine. Then, for some unexplainable reason, his eyes began to droop and within seconds he was unconscious again.

This time he awoke in the dark cell, the heavy collar weighing around his neck. John sat upright, confused. The memory of the white room was blurred in his mind, like it was only a dream, but the proof was there in the scar on his back. He fingered the scar beside his spinal column thoughtfully and that was when he noticed that his hands weren't bound any more. More proof that he'd been visited whilst he was unconscious.

Moments later there was a soft click as the lock was disengaged and John scrambled to his feet as the door opened. Kes walked in, followed closely by Wayne. Wayne stayed by the door this time whist Kes walked over to John.

"You have been invited to dinner," Wayne said.

Kes scowled at John, clearly not keen on the idea. John watched in silence as Kes fiddled with the chain that linked John's collar to the wall but the man was standing in the way and he couldn't make out what he was doing. When he stepped away from the wall, he held a shortened version of the chain in his hands.

He walked over to Wayne, pulling John along behind him. Feeling the cool metal against his neck made a shiver run down John's spine but he moved along behind Kes, trying to keep pace as he walked out of the cell and into the winding corridors. Wayne walked close behind him, making sure that John didn't try anything.

The walk this time wasn't very long; in fact the door was only a few steps down the hall. Kes dragged him inside and pointed at a wooden chair.

"Sit," he ordered.

John almost smiled as he heard the slightly nasal inflect as he spoke, courtesy of the broken nose John had given him. Kes saw John's lips twitch upwards and anger flooded him. He pulled angrily on John's leash and the boy stumbled towards him. He grabbed a fistful of the boy's shirt and lifted him off the ground.

"Kes, put the kid down," a soft patient voice said. It almost sounded weary.

Kes growled deep in his throat, his eyes boring into John's. John tried not to show that fear that was mounting inside him, instead he glared back. Slowly, Kes placed him back on the ground. John stepped back as far as the leash would allow and turned his attention to the new arrival. It was the man who had been fiddling with the Turk the previous day. John searched his memory for a name but none came to mind.

"Please sit," the man said, pointing to the chair.

Kes led him over to the chair and John sat. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Kes locked the end of the leash to a D ring under the edge of the table. The man kept his eyes planted on John in the silence as Wayne and Kes left the room. John tried his best to retaliate but his eyes couldn't help wandering to the dishes of meat and steaming vegetables on the table before him. His stomach grumbled loudly and he was sudden aware of how ravenous he was.

"Go ahead and eat," the man said a smile on his thin face.

John watched him silently for a second, suddenly wary. But then his stomach grumbled again and he decided that if they'd wanted him dead, they wouldn't have gone to such extremes. He reached out and piled up his plate, not knowing when he would next have the chance to eat. As he dug in, the man sat at the other end of the table and watched him. He didn't touch any of the food but John wasn't worried. The man was thin almost to the extreme and John doubted that he ate very often.

As John began to slow his intake, the man spoke up.

"So how is your room?"

John raised an eyebrow. He popped another forkful of roast into his mouth and chewed slowly, deliberately not answering.

"Hmm," the man suddenly frowned. "I think training will have to start earlier than intended."

John stared at the man, confused. "What training?"

"Well you don't expect me to just let you run amok do you?" the man laughed humourlessly. "You may have noticed that you have a new scar on your back?"

Subconsciously, John's hand went to the back of his shirt where he fingered the thin scar.

"A specially designed device was placed within your spine where it has been carefully attached to many of your nerves. It is voice activated and has been programmed to only respond to my voice. If you try to remove it in any way, it is likely you will damage your spine or the nerves it is attached to."

John stared at him, unaware that his mouth was hanging open. Was the man joking? It wasn't a funny joke if he was.

The man smiled at him. "You should enjoy tonight because it will be your last in luxury. I am activating the device tomorrow morning at breakfast."

John swallowed the food that was suddenly tasteless in his mouth. He stared at the man opposite him and as the fear and unease in his stomach grew, a name suddenly popped into his head.

Sarkissian. The name he would come to fear as much as his predicted future.

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_Well that's another chapter over… you should review and let me know your thoughts! Please review… it'll help inspire me! Thanks…._


	4. Chapter 4

_This chapter is a little shorter than the last but I thought it an appropriate place to stop… thank you to _xXPrettyDisturbedXx _and_ fairedust _for the reviews! Hope you guys like this next chapter._

**Disclaimer – I don't own Terminator (sorry I keep forgetting to put it in…)**

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John dreaded the coming of breakfast. He'd been returned to his cell after dinner to find a singlet bed with an invitingly comfortable mattress and warm quilt pushed against one wall. He stared at it as his collar and leash were fastened back to the wall and he was left in the complete darkness. But despite the comforts given to him, not once during the night did he sleep. No amount of fatigue or comfort could overpower the fear and dread that boiled in his stomach. When Wayne and Kes unlocked his door in the morning, he shied away from the light, pulling the blanket up over his head.

Once again, it was Kes who parted the links on the chain, separating a section of the chain that led to his collar from the rest of the chain which was left hanging from its bracket. He pulled John to his feet and forced him along behind him. This time John struggled against the steel around his throat. He lifted his hands to the collar and tugged fiercely at it, digging his heels against the cement. But no amount of tugging could open the collar and Kes simply pulled him forward more roughly. John stumbled and as he past the door, he grabbed onto the doorway. He held fast, not willing to go anywhere. But Wayne pried his fingers away from the door jamb and gave him a shove in the back.

John didn't stop struggling as he was pulled the short distance down the corridor. He could feel the steel biting into his neck but didn't care; all he wanted was to be free of the damn thing.

The door to the dining hall was opened and John was pulled inside. He once again reached for something to hold onto but Wayne knocked his hands away with a chuckle. Kes once again locked the leash to the D ring under the table and John immediately moved to tug at it.

"Don't touch it kid," that patient voice said.

John glanced around, all the fear, anger, and exhaustion from the past couple of days suddenly overwhelming him. Sarkissian was here already. John shuddered as the realisation hit home.

Sarkissian walked around the table this time until he stood in front of John. He peered into the boy's face, noting the fear in his dark eyes and the stubborn set of his jaw. He smiled.

"Just to warn you, once the device has been activated it cannot be deactivated," Sarkissian said.

John swallowed and tried to hide his emotions, not looking away from the man who towered over him.

"Let the fun begin then," he said softly.

He pulled out a small black box about the size of a rubrics cube that only had one button on it. Sarkissian watched John's eyes stare at the box and slowly he pressed down on the button. It flashed red once then John seemed to shudder.

To John it felt as though a small electrical current had passed its way up his spine and he shuddered. His limbs and internal organ felt a sudden tingle then the moment past and it was as though nothing had happened. Confused, John looked to Sarkissian.

"This device will only come into effect whenever you disobey me so I advise you to do as you're told," Sarkissian said. He turned away from John and walked back to his seat. As he sat and watched John as the boy stared at him. He hadn't moved.

"I will give you something simple to start with – just until you learn the consequences of disobedience."

Sarkissian glanced at the chair John had just pulled out to sit on and smiled.

"You are never to use any form of furniture ever again, unless I allow it," he stated.

John heard the man speak and once again felt that strange tingle run through his body. He shuddered and dropped into the seat. Instantly, like a flipped switch, burning pain exploded in his mind and his stomach clenched. John grabbed his head in his hands and screamed in pain. Suddenly bile rose in his throat and he lurched to the side, falling off the chair as his stomach emptied its contents onto the floor. He screwed his eyes shut as the pain engulfed him.

And then, all of a sudden, it was gone. As quickly as it had come, it had disappeared, leaving behind only a bitter memory that John shied away from. Slowly, John lifted himself from the floor and turned to stare at Sarkissian.

"What…?" he tried to put his confusing thoughts into words but nothing worked.

Sarkissian just grinned and motioned to someone behind him. Wayne stepped out of the shadows, a perverse grin on his face. He was watching John as he struggled to comprehend what had just happened.

Sarkissian whispered something in Wayne's ear. The man nodded eagerly and walked out of the room. John stared at the ground, lost in his thoughts.

"Eat something kid,' Sarkissian demanded.

John looked up and noticed Sarkissian digging into a bowl of porridge. Slowly he stepped forward and piled up his plate with fresh fruit. His stomach still ached from throwing up but he forced himself to fill his plate. When he was done, he glanced hesitantly at the chair but decided against it. He wanted to keep his breakfast down long enough for it to digest.

He walked as far away from the table as the leash would allow before sitting down on the ground. He kept his eyes on his plate as he ate, knowing that Sarkissian was watching him. They ate in silence, Sarkissian watching John while John stared at his plate.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door and Sarkissian glanced away from the boy. He stood, drawing John's attention. He glanced at the door then back to the man. Sarkissian turned to John with a smile.

"Come on kid. I have a little gift for you," he said.

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_Well there you go! Please review and let me know what you think… thank you!_


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